A New Adventure
by AnnabellArcher
Summary: It's after the end of season 3. Sherlock's ready to take on Moriarty, but the universe has decided to throw something else in for him to deal with instead.
1. Birthday

Sherlock walked back into 221b. He'd had a long day of almost being exported to his death, being brought back, and of course, _Did you miss me? Did you miss me?_ The words rang in his head. The broadcast had continued for a while after he came back, the voice blasting through every radio station and his face on every screen as they drove past. John said that Mary was tired, what with her being pregnant to the point of almost popping and all, but he promised that they'd come by tomorrow to celebrate him getting to stay in London.

Though, Sherlock saw that as pointless. Not only did he not see his situation staying the same as something worth celebrating, but Jim was back. Jim Moriarty. The most dangerous criminal he had ever faced. He was back from the dead. They should be staying inside and locking their doors, Sherlock should be planning and preparing, which was what he intended to do.

He sat down and began thinking. Was this Moriarty? Was it a fake? Why announce it now? He closed his eyes and allowed himself to immerse completely into his mind palace. Until it was interrupted only minutes later by his phone ringing. He rolled his eyes. He meant to turn it off, as he always did when he began thinking. It was probably just some imbecile with another adultery case, or thievery, or something else equally dull. He reached to turn it off but his eyes caught sight of something. The caller id: John Watson.

Sherlock was about to ignore it, but John knew that he would be thinking right now about the case, and he had seen him only a few minutes ago. There was no reason he would call. Sherlock picked up the phone. "What is it, John?"

John's anxious voice almost cut him off. "Sherlock, Mary's in labor!"

Sherlock froze, his mouth opened and closed for a moment, no sound coming out.

"Sherlock! Sherlock! We're going to the hospital. I'd really appreciate it if you could meet us there! Please!" Sherlock could hear Mary moaning with pain in the background and he quickly pulled himself together.

"Of course, John. I'm on my way." he hung up and rushed outside, grabbing his coat and scarf by habit and putting them on as he walked out, shouting a good-bye to Mrs. Hudson and slipping his phone into his pocket.

He hardly registered anything as he hailed a cab and climbed inside, vaguely giving directions to the hospital. A baby. His best friend's wife was having a baby. John was going to be a father. Sherlock couldn't help but smile. But, at the same time, he felt sad. He'd barely seen John since the wedding, he couldn't imagine how distant John was going to be once he had a baby to take care of.

He pushed the thought from his mind as the cab pulled up to the hospital, he threw some money into the passenger's seat and ran inside. He found John in the waiting room, looking pale and sweaty.

"Sherlock." he breathed, nodding stiffly when he saw his friend enter.

"Where's Mary?"

"She's in bloody labor, where do you think it is!" John shouted, tense. Several heads in the waiting room turned to look at them and Sherlock shifted awkwardly for a moment.

"Well, then, why aren't you with her?" he asked, much more quietly.

"I'm freaking scared, Sherlock." he muttered, still tense, looking at Sherlock, like he was crazy for asking.

"Yeah, well, so is she." he said. When John didn't respond he sighed and pushed him into the hallway leading to the delivery room. "Go, you dumbass." he muttered, and John sped off. Sherlock looked around. There were a couple people looking at him. Particularly older couples who'd been through the process before, and young women who were wondering if the baby was part-his or if he was still available.

He sat down on the chair farthest from other people, and brought his hands in front of his face, forcing himself to focus on the case instead of worrying about John and Mary. It was no use and before long he got up and left into the hallway, following John. Besides, he figured John might need him.

He came out to see John inside the delivery room, trying to help Mary through her childbirth. Sherlock sighed. He wasn't sure with relief or sadness. He was glad John was doing OK, but he kind of wished John needed him. He was OK with it, though. He had given John that first push. He could do the rest himself.

He saw that there were more chairs next to the deliver room and seated himself in one of them. He began thinking, this time about John and Mary, not bothering with trying to distract himself. Mary… he hadn't read the flash drive, like John, though he was dying to know who she really was. She was clearly someone of high-training, good with a gun, most likely with computers also. She had to have been very observant, and very good at manipulating people.

In fact… she must have been very good… with a lot of talents… Sherlock's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. He looked into the room and, sure enough, there was Mary, holding a baby, the proud father looking over happily. Mary looked up at John, her face flushed and sweaty, but she was smiling at her husband, her eyes full of love.

Sherlock smiled and backed out, leaving the two happy parents alone with their first child. It would be a while before Sherlock would hold it for the first time, but that was OK. He was perfectly happy to let the brand new family be all together for the first time.

Dorothy Alicia Shirley Watson was born January 24th at 4:32 pm


	2. How to Scare the World

Two days after Dorothy's birth Mary and John got together with a couple friends to celebrate bringing her into the world. The guests included John, Mary, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, Sherlock, and, of course, Dorothy herself. They were all gathered in the married couple's living area talking, with Mary holding the baby and looking exhausted, not that John looked any better, but they both had smiled tiredly when everyone arrived.

"You're not tired already?" Mrs. Hudson laughed. "The hard part hasn't even started yet."

"Oh, but, Mrs. Hudson, it's always going to be hard, isn't it?" Molly piped up. "From the time they're born to the time they leave for college, and then you have to deal with empty nest syndrome."

"Now, hang on." interjected John, "She's two days old, it's a bit early to talk about college." They all laughed and even Sherlock managed a smile.

After she had been born Dorothy had been moved to the hospital nursery where John, Mary, and Sherlock had watched through the glass as she kicked and wiggled next to all the other babies.

"Sherlock?" spoke John after a few minutes of silence.

"Hm?"

"You do realize that you're going to be her godfather, right?"

Sherlock spun around and stared at John. After a moment he looked to Mary for confirmation. When she saw him looking at her, Mary smiled.

"Of course, Sherlock, how could I say no?"

Sherlock continued to look from Mary, to John, to Dorothy and back for a solid ten minutes, unable to speak for the shock.

"I'm having flashbacks from when I asked you to be my best man." John said, and he and Mary laughed.

"Hey, why'd you name her Dorothy?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock blinked and was brought back to the present circle of people.

"It's my mother's name." said Mary simply.

"And I've always liked the name Alicia." said John.

"And no one has to asked why you put Shirley in there." said Molly with a smile. The group laughed. Sherlock looked around, surprised. He hadn't realized that Dorothy had been named after him in the end.

"I have to go to the bathroom." said Mary. "I'll be right back." she passed Dorothy to John, who took the swaddle of blankets carefully. Sherlock stared at it. Babies were so fragile. The blankets were at least as large as the baby, and still she would be hurt if someone were to accidentally drop her. Other species had developed to the point where once their child was born they were pretty much ready to live on their own, but not humans. Humans had developed so that baby's heads were so big, they needed to be born before they were ready for the world. Dorothy was technically still a fetus. No other animal would be able to take care of a child that helpless, but humans could. What was it that made humans willing to take care of something each other?

"Sherlock?" said John suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. The detective looked up at his friend who smiled knowingly. "Would you like to hold her?" John was under the impression that was why he'd been staring.

"Oh, no I-"

"You haven't held her yet?" said Mrs. Hudson, surprised.

"Well, no, you see-"

"But you're the godfather!" said Molly.

"Sherlock, you have to hold the baby now." interjected Lestrade.

"But, I'm not good with… children." said Sherlock, looking apprehensively at the blankets.

John laughed and stood up. "She's a baby, not a rabid dog." he walked over to Sherlock and held out the blankets. "Here. Support the head. There you go."

And so, Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, held a baby for the first time. Held his goddaughter for the first time. He smiled in spite of himself and looked down at the little girl, her large brown eyes looking up at him curiously, trying her best to learn everything about this new world she was in.

The rest of the room clapped. "Thank you, John." he said. He held out the baby. "Now take her back."

John laughed again. "All right, all right." he carefully took Dorothy back and sat down on the couch again.

Sherlock stood. "I'll be right back."

"Holding a baby was too much for you, yeah?" Lestrade said teasingly.

Sherlock glared and walked away, hearing Molly behind him, "Are your parents and Harry ever going to meet her?"

"They will, but they have to drive a ways, so they'll be here in a week or two."

Sherlock walked down the hall until he found the bedroom. He opened the door and found, as he expected, Mary Watson sitting on he bed she and John shared.

"Oh, hello Sherlock." she said, blushing a bit. "How did you know I was in here?"

"I knew you didn't really have to go to the bathroom. You were just feeling overwhelmed by the party and by the fact that you now have a baby."

"Well, yeah, you're right." said Mary.

"I came here because I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, what about?"

"A couple of things." said Sherlock nonchalantly, walking around the room. "What was your life like before John? What do you think of Moriarty's return?"

"Oh." said Mary, "You figured it out huh?"

"Yes. Your past experience with computers and such that I know you must have had, along with the things you were likely to have known about the case I was being sent on told me."

"You caught me. I set up the fake Moriarty scare."

Sherlock stopped, not expecting her to confess so willingly.

"You were that desperate to get me to stay?" he smirked briefly before wiping his expression clear.

"It would've meant a lot to John, and I knew about that case. You would've died on it, definitely. I didn't tell John, of course but…"

"You scared the entire world into thinking that the most dangerous criminal ever is back… to get me to stay?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." Mary said, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm pretty sure that we'd best not tell John. He might not like it, plus he would accuse you of, how does he put it?" Sherlock thought for a moment, then held up his fingers to make air quotes, "'fanning the flame of my ego'?"

Mary laughed. "Yeah, that's one way he puts it."

The two stayed in silence for a moment. "Thank you." Sherlock said eventually.

"For scaring the entire world?"

"Oh, that too, but I was actually referring to making me godfather and naming her after me. But thank you for that, as well."

Mary smiled. "Care to return to the party?"

"Sounds marvelous."


	3. Don't Let Her Fall

"Sherlock I'm glad you made it!" said John, smiling at his friend as he opened the door.

"Well, I wasn't going to miss her birthday." said Sherlock simply.

He was almost cut off by a loud squeal of, "UNCLE SHERLOCK!" Sherlock tipped forward, almost losing his balance as a little girl fastened herself around his middle.

"Hey, Dot." said Sherlock, leaning down to give the girl a proper hug. "How's my little two-year-old?"

"Nu-uh!" she shouted, her lips curling into a frown, and her hands planting firmly on her hips. "I'm three now!" she held up three fingers to demonstrate

"Oh, really?" said Sherlock, feigning surprise. "since when?"

"Since today! That's why you're at my party!"

"Oh, that's why I'm here. And here I thought you just wanted a hello from your favorite uncle. I wish I'd known. I would've brought you a present."

Dorothy pouted. "You mean you didn't bring me anything?" she said sadly.

"Sherlock, don't tease the girl." said John, smiling.

"Alright, alright, fine." said Sherlock. He pulled out a fair-sized package from his coat wrapped up in newspaper.

"Yay!" said Dorothy, reaching up for it.

Sherlock held it up slightly higher. "No, no." he handed the package to John. "You don't get to open it until you're opening all your presents. John smiled and took the package, putting it on the kitchen table as he walked by to where the other parents were.

"Uncle Sherlock, Uncle Sherlock!" said Dorothy, jumping up and down. "Do the magic! Do the magic!" Sherlock knew exactly what 'the magic' meant.

He picked her up and sat her on the counter. "Well, you've been coloring a lot lately and playing with play-doh. You've got… three friends at this party from your daycare. You've already lost three left shoes outside… and…" he walked around her dramatically, making a big show of deducing her. "and you've already seen the cake. In fact you've stolen a bit of the icing."

Dorothy giggled with delight. "You're right!" she clapped her marker-stained hands. "Come outside with me!" she said, as easily distracted as any other three year old. As Sherlock allowed himself to be dragged outside by the hand, he eyed the shoe basket by the door with three solitary right shoes, and heard the voices of four sets of parents from the living area, recognizing one as John and Mary. He was probably supposed to be with them having "intelligent" conversation. But, honestly, the others were bound to be so stupid, he would get more intelligence outside with the three-year-olds.

After all, Dot was a very smart baby. He had happened to be in the house when she'd spoken her first words.

"Come on, say 'mama'." Mary goaded. Sherlock rolled his eyes from where he was sitting a little bit away.

"No, say 'dada'." said John, sitting next to Mary on the couch.

"Ma…da…" struggled Dot.

"No, it's ma_ma_." said Mary

"It's actually _da_da." said John.

"Ma… da… ma… da… murder!" squeaked Dot triumphantly.

Mary and John sat in shock for a moment before turning to look at Sherlock. There was silence for a while except for Dot squeaking, "murder murder murder!".

"That's my girl." said Sherlock quietly, with a smirk.

A particularly loud squeal from one of the girls brought Sherlock back to the playground. He saw four little girls clambering around the monkey bars. Dot was easily recognizable, with her long blonde hair and huge brown eyes, she was very noticeable. Sherlock was proud to see her swinging along like a monkey, passing the other girls with ease. When she got bored of just swinging back and forth she hoisted herself up, so that she was sitting on top of the monkey bars.

"Whee!" she squealed, "Look at me, Uncle Sherlock!"

Sherlock smiled. "Good job!" he said, looking up at her.

But one of the other girls wasn't paying attention, she continued going along the monkey bars the normal way, knocking Dot off balance. She swayed for a moment, her eyes wide before toppling backwards with a loud squeal of fear.

Over in the house John looked over, just in time to see her fall backwards, his eyes widened and he rushed out, opening the doors and running over to the playground in his and Mary's backyard, but the house wasn't directly connected to the playground, he couldn't get there fast enough.

_Thump_. Dot landed safe and sound in Sherlock's arms before John came close to the monkey bars. She blinked in shock for a moment, having been expecting a harder landing, her hands gripped Sherlock's trench coat sleeves tighter, not wanting to fall.

"Careful." Sherlock said, looking down at her. "You could've been hurt." Dot's face broke into a wide grin, as if she'd already forgotten her tumble.

"Sherlock!" came John's sharp voice. Sherlock dropped Dot onto her feet and turned to face his friend.

"What is it?" he asked, confused.

"What were you doing letting Dorothy on top of the monkey bars like that?" he turned to the little girl, who was looking up, a little scared. "Now, Dorothy, don't you ever do that again. Ok?" Dorothy nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Alright. Go play." John pushed her a bit towards the other girls and she ran off. John turned back. "What were you thinking? She could've been seriously injured."

"Except she wasn't." Sherlock said. "I caught her. I knew if she fell I'd catch her because I was right there underneath."

"Except now she's going to think she can do anything because there'll always be someone there to catch her."

"At her age there will be." Sherlock said, the two of them doing their best to keep their voices quiet so the kids wouldn't hear. Sherlock sighed. "Look, John" he took John a bit farther away so that the kids wouldn't hear. "Remember when I died?" Sherlock didn't let him answer. "Of course you do. I was expecting to come back and pick up where I left off with you in the flat, single, and Molly in the morgue, and Mycroft still being a prick, but I came back to find everything different. Except for Mycroft, he's still a prick.

"The point is, I've never really loved anyone, not like most people love, yet people have often thought the two of us a couple. Molly has always had a crush on me. Though subconscious, I have still at some point considered myself in a relationship with the both of you. Yet, I came back to find Molly and you both engaged. You'd both moved on.

"I've frankly given up on ever being in a relationship with anyone. I know that almost no one can stay around me for more than five minutes without wanting to punch me. I'm never going to get married, John. I'm never going to have any kids of my own. I've suggested to Mycroft that he find someone because mum and dad want grandkids, and they sure as hell aren't going to get any from me.

"Dot is the closest I'm ever going to have to a child, and, I'm sorry, but I'm taking advantage of that. I'm not saying she loves me more than you or anything, you're still her dad, of course. But if the closest I'll ever be to a father is an uncle, I'm going to enjoy it."

Sherlock finished his speech and John was silent for a moment.

"Dammit. How do you always manage it that I can't stay mad at you?" John said, pulling his friend into a hug. "Just… just don't let her do anything dangerous again, got it?"

"Of course."


	4. I'm You

After Sherlock's talk with John the doctor said it was time for cake. "CAKE!" screeched four little girls and they ran inside before Sherlock had a chance to blink. He glanced at John.

"What part of giving them more sugar seems like a good idea to you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

John laughed. "The sugar crash that accompanies it." he patted his friend on the back and the two of them trudged back inside.

They came into the kitchen to find four girls literally bouncing with excitement. The three mothers accompanying them were standing behind with cell phones ready to film. John turned off the lights as he passed by, causing the girls to squirm expectantly. A few moments later a smiling Mary came out carrying a large cake with three candles on top in a perfect triangle. She placed it on the table in front of the four girls so that everyone could see "Happy Birthday Dorothy" written on it accompanied by an icing drawing of some cartoon figure from whatever show kids were watching these days. Sherlock could see a line in the icing on the side from where Dorothy had sneaked a bit.

All together everybody sang happy birthday, with all the moms, including Mary, recording it on their phones. Sherlock smiled and sang along with them, and clapped when Dorothy blew out her candles. The girls reached their peak of excitement when Mary took the cake and began cutting slices. She handed them out.

"No one's allowed to eat before Der-thy!" squealed one of the girls.

Dorothy giggled and cut off a large bit of her piece of cake, cramming it into her mouth and getting frosting all over her face. Mary offered cake to the parents as well, some of whom took some and some of whom didn't. Sherlock politely declined, but John whispered something to Dot, and soon she was begging to feed him some of hers.

Sherlock glared at John, who had known he wouldn't be able to say no to Dot, and leaned down, opening his mouth to accept the piece of cake Dorothy offered. He grabbed the fork to hold her hand steady and ate it, getting a bit of icing on his face. He heard a click and glared as Mary took a picture, wiping the icing off his face.

After the cake it was finally time for Dorothy to open her presents. Dot clapped her hands excitedly and moved to the living room with the other girls, where John had moved her presents.

"Open mine first!" said one of the girls, handing her a bag. Dot opened it excitedly to find a pack of crayons along with a coloring book with the same cartoonish character on the front as had been on the cake. _Cheap gift with simple wrapping._ thought Sherlock, _clearly bought last-minute and wrapped in the car._

Dot then unwrapped the other girls' presents of a couple dresses, a plastic tiara and wand, and a couple simple picture books.

"Alright." said Sherlock. "Now mine." Dot smiled and grabbed the newspaper-wrapped package. She tore it open to find two I-Spy books and a plastic magnifying glass. She squealed with excitement.

"Yay! Thank you, Uncle Sherlock!" she reached up and hugged him around his neck.

"Ok, now ours." said John, nodding towards the last present on the table. Dorothy grabbed it, and even Sherlock looked over, interested to see what her parents had gotten her. She tore open the colorful paper to find… a deerstalker.

Sherlock frowned. That hat. That dreaded hat. Why would John think-

"Yay yay yay yay yay!" said Dot, putting it on. She hopped off the couch and ran over to Sherlock. "Look, Uncle Sherlock! I'm you!" she said, holding the hat on her head, as it was slightly too big. The parents laughed and Sherlock smiled tensely.

"Not yet, you're not." he said, he shrugged off his trench coat and put it awkwardly around the tiny girls figure. He then took off his scarf and tied it around her neck. She looked absolutely ridiculous in the clothes twice her size, but Sherlock smiled fondly, remembering the baby girl wrapped in blankets that doubled her size then, as well.

"Smile." said Mary, and she snapped another picture.


End file.
